


In re: Superhero Registration (Or How the Superhero Civil War Should Have Ended)

by Caroly214



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Civil War (Marvel), Courtroom Drama, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, M/M, Pre-Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve/Tony UST, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caroly214/pseuds/Caroly214
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marvel says its civil war is what happens when superheroes are in the real world.  I don’t know what world they’re in, because that’s not what happens in the real world; this is.</p>
<p>This was originally supposed to be crack and then it turned into crack taken seriously.  I’m not sure what it is now, other than a way for me to work out my frustration with the whole civil war thing, as well as my frustration with Age of Ultron and all the Tony-bashing I’ve been seeing.  But I couldn’t resist a hopeful ending, which I fear we won’t get from CA: CW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In re: Superhero Registration (Or How the Superhero Civil War Should Have Ended)

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have guessed from the summary, Tony Stark is my favorite Avenger, so Steve may not come across very well, but I’m not intentionally bashing him. I have given Steve beliefs that I’ve based on things I’ve read in stories and comments about registration (primarily the comparison to Nazis). And because I started thinking about this before details of the plot of CA: CW were made public, I based superhero registration primarily on the comics, so there isn’t anything here about Bucky.
> 
> Also, I’m really far behind on watching things, so I haven’t seen more than the first half of the first season of Daredevil. I also haven’t seen Age of Ultron since the theater last year, so if my memory is wrong, please let me know.
> 
> In an effort to not be too boring, this isn’t completely legally accurate. All you need to know is that a preliminary injunction is like a temporary restraining order.
> 
> Finally, the Steve/Tony is very UST, because I’m apparently incapable of writing anything other than UST. But their dynamic is just too interesting to ignore.
> 
> Disclaimer: yes, in real life, I’m an attorney. My entire career has been working different positions within the government. Among other things, I’ve handled professional license discipline (primarily architects, engineers, and real estate agents) and defending the government from lawsuits, including civil rights lawsuits. Those experiences have definitely shaped how I approached this (though none of the attorneys in this are based on me). Also, I don’t own anything, because if I did, we wouldn’t be having a civil war.

The lines were drawn; the two sides of former friends facing off as enemies in battle. As he looked across the way, Steve couldn’t figure out how they had gotten to this point - how a simple disagreement had turned into all-out war.

The silence was deafening, an oppressive weight hanging over all of them. Steve opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but desperate to fill the silence, to breach the void between the two sides before things went too far. But before he could speak, another voice signaled the start of the battle:

“All rise.” 

With that, everyone jumped to their feet, all attention on the judge entering the courtroom. The judge, a tiny woman with steel gray hair and a stern expression on her face, stared down the assembled superheroes as she took her seat behind her bench, allowing everyone else to take theirs.

In a clear, strong voice, the judge announced, “This is the preliminary injunction hearing in the case Rogers, et al., vs. U.S. I believe the issue is whether the court should halt the implementation of the Superhero Registration Act. Counsel, are you ready to begin?”

The attorneys chorused,”Yes, your honor,” after which the plaintiffs’ attorney, a small man with a meticulous manner that reminded Steve of Phil Coulson, rose.

“Thank you, your honor. This is a declaratory judgment action in which plaintiffs, all superheroes, seek a judgment that the Superhero Registration Act is unconstitutional, in that it violates their First Amendment freedom of association; their Fourth Amendment protection against unreasonable search and seizure; their Fifth Amendment right to due process under the law; and their Fourteenth Amendment guarantee of equal protection under the law. The SHRA also violates the Thirteenth Amendment’s prohibition of slavery and indentured servitude. The evidence the plaintiffs will show today will demonstrate that the plaintiffs are likely to succeed on the merits of their claims, and that the likelihood of harm to the plaintiffs if the SHRA is allowed to become law far outweighs the harm to the government if the SHRA is not allowed to become law. Thank you.” And with that, he sat down.

Steve and his fellow plaintiffs stared at their attorney in shock. That was it? Where was the passion? Where was the fight? Their attorney sounded as if he was reading a legal document out loud.

Shocked, they all turned to fellow plaintiff Matt Murdock, who shrugged. “I told you it wouldn’t be like you see on tv,” he whispered. (Steve knew how Matt could tell they were all looking at him, but he was less sure how Matt knew they were all incredulous. How often did he have to explain to people that being a lawyer wasn’t like how it’s shown on tv?)

In the meantime, the government’s attorney, a tall, thin woman with long brown hair (and a small tattoo on her ankle, Steve had been surprised to see), had stood and begun her opening statement. “You honor, the Superhero Registration Act is a valid exercise of the government’s police powers. Just as many professionals whose work impacts public safety, such as doctors, lawyers, engineers, and police, are regulated, so too should superheroes be. And while professional registration is usually handled on the State level, instead of the federal level, the nature of superheroes’ work, with so few being called to address problems nationwide - and even worldwide - means that the federal government is in a far better place to regulate superheroes. In fact, many States agree, with many of them filing an amicus brief on behalf of the government.”

“The factors in this case do not warrant the issuance of a preliminary injunction,” she continued. “The plaintiffs will not win on the merits because the SHRA does not violate their constitutional rights. The likelihood of harm is far greater on the government, and therefore the public, if the SHRA is not implemented and superheroes are allowed to continue to operate unregulated. Thank you.”

As the government’s attorney sat, Steve frowned. The situation here wasn’t like that for doctors. Was that really how the government was going to defend this?

The judge nodded, her expression not giving anything away. She turned towards the plaintiffs’ table. “Counsel, you may call your first witness.”

Their attorney stood again. “Thank you, your honor. Plaintiffs call Captain Steven Rogers to the stand.”

As he walked across the courtroom to the witness stand and was sworn in, Steve had to admit to himself that he was nervous. Yes, he’d been on display on a stage before, but he hadn't had a personal stake in the war bond sales. This was more like a battle, but different than any other battle he’d ever been in. Despite preparing with his attorney, this wasn’t the sort of battle he knew how to win.

“Captain, can you please give us your full name and your date of birth?”

“Steven Grant Rogers. I was born on July 4th, 1918.” So far, so easy.

“And can you briefly describe your military service?”

“I enlisted in the United States Army in April 1942. In June of that year, I participated in Operation Rebirth, when I was given the super soldier serum. After that, I spent about a year working in the war bond effort with the USO before going on active duty with the Strategic Scientific Reserve. In January of 1945, I downed a HYDRA plane in the North Atlantic to prevent it from bombing American cities. I was declared missing, presumed dead, shortly after that.”

“What happened after you downed the plane?”

“I was frozen in the ice for 67 years. In 2012, I was found and, well...thawed,” grimacing at the word choice, because it made him sound like someone took him out of a freezer to thaw before cooking dinner. But it was the most accurate description.

“And after you were ‘thawed,’ what did you do?”

“I teamed up to form the Avengers for the Chitauri invasion in 2012. Then I joined SHIELD until it was dissolved in 2014, after we learned that it had been infiltrated by HYDRA. After that, I joined the reformed Avengers as team captain.” Finally, Steve thought. That should finish the boring background. Didn’t everyone know all of this already?

“So you would qualify as what’s popularly known as a ‘superhero’?”

“Yes, I would.”

“And you would also qualify as a superhero under the Superhero Registration Act, correct?”

“Yes, I would.”

“How did you learn of the SHRA?”

“Tony Stark and General Ross informed me of it shortly before it was proposed in Congress.”

“Do you believe the SHRA is necessary?”

Steve took a deep breath. This was the part that mattered. “No, I do not. We superheroes can police ourselves without the government’s interference.”

“Do you believe the SHRA is unconstitutional?”

Before Steve old respond, however, the government’s attorney stood. “Objection. Calls for a legal conclusion.” Steve could barely contain his frustration. These were his rights at issue; didn’t he get a say?

The judge announced, “Sustained.” But, apparently sensing Steve’s frustration, she turned to him. “I appreciate your willingness to share your opinion, Captain, but the responsibility for deciding the law rests with me. You are here to present the facts of this case, which is necessary for my analysis. The law does not exist in a vacuum.”

Slightly mollified, Steve nodded respectfully, remembering that his attorney had told him repeatedly that the first rule in the practice of law is ‘do not piss off the judge.’

His attorney took it all in stride, however, merely moving on to his next question. “How will the SHRA impact your ability to act as a superhero?”

“It will make it a lot harder. We’ll be less likely to do what we need to do if we’re worried that people will know our identities and could come after us, or even worse, our families. It would also add a lot of bureaucracy and red tape that could stop us from being able to protect people.”

“Do you believe the SHRA is consistent with American values?”

Steve shook his head. “No, it is not,” he said emphatically. “The government shouldn’t interfere with our ability to do our jobs. And the government definitely should not be singling out a group for different treatment. It’s discriminatory.”

“Do you believe that the SHRA unfairly singles out superheroes?”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath. This was what he needed the judge (and the American people) to understand. “Yes. We’re being singled out because of who we are; anyone with superpowers has to register and work for the government. It reminds me of the Nazis, who made Jews wear yellow star badges.”

As he gave his answer, he looked straight at Tony, Natasha, and the others sitting at the defendant's table. He expected them to look ashamed of themselves, now that they were being confronted with what they were actually doing. But, for the most part, they were stone faced. Steve barely bit back a frustrated groan. How could they not see what they were doing?

His attorney’s words broke him from his reverie. “No further questions, your honor.” 

The judge nodded as his attorney sat down. “You may begin your cross-examination, counsel,” the judge said to the government’s attorney.

Steve sat up, alert, because this was the dangerous part. His attorney had prepared him as best he could, but Steve still felt like a trapped animal, cornered by a predator.

“Thank you, your honor.” The government’s attorney smiled at him, but there was a sharp edge beneath her smile. “Captain Rogers, you stated that you qualify as a superhero, correct?”

Warily, Steve nodded. “Yes.”

“And the point of superheroes is to protect the public from threats that the ‘less super’ forces, such as the police and military, are not equipped to handle, yes?”

“Yes.”

“The threats superheroes usually deal with include alien invasions and robots?”

Steve nodded again. “Yes, they do.”

“So you believe that protecting the public is important?”

“Yes.” 

“But you also know that battles with these ‘super’ threats can lead to collateral damage, don’t you?”

Steve winced, thinking of the damage to New York after the Chitauri invasion, and Sokovia after the fight with Ultron. “Yes, I do.”

“Even with the best intentions, things can go wrong, can’t they?”

Steve knew he was being lulled into a rhythm where he kept answering ‘yes,’ but it was hard not to be pulled in. He had no choice but to agree with her questions. “Yes.”

“And it’s for that reason that people need to have proper training and education, to minimize the possibility of things going wrong.”

“Yes.”

“It could cause a lot of damage if just anyone could practice as say, a doctor, without having a proper education, couldn’t it?”

“Yes, it could.”

“And when people are hurt or their property is damaged, they should have a recourse to seek restitution, shouldn't they?”

“Yes, they should.”

The government attorney nodded, pausing for a moment, then switched gears. “Are you aware that the government has regulated professions for decades?”

Momentarily taken off guard, Steve stuttered. “Um, no.”

“In fact, professional registration was already in place by the time WWII began. Did you know that?”

Didn’t she just ask this? “No.”

“Your mother was a nurse, wasn’t she?”

Steve frowned. What did his mother have to do with anything? “Yes, she was.”

“In fact, she was a registered nurse, wasn’t she?”

Steve though back. He had never really paid attention as a child, but he remembered her being described as a registered nurse. “Yes, I think she was.”

“Do you know what she had to do to be called a registered nurse?”

Steve shook his head. His mother had become a nurse before he was born. “No.”

“So you don’t know that the word ‘registered’ meant she obtained a license from the State?”

Steve frowned. He didn’t remember anything like that. But as he opened his mouth to answer, a memory tickled the back of his mind: One night, when she was tired after pulling a double shift, he remembered her complaining to one of their neighbors about these girls who claimed to be nurses but didn’t have any of the required training. But because licenses weren’t required, they could still call themselves nurses and we're giving those who had the training and licenses a bad name. He had never made the connection before, between his mother being a ‘registered’ nurse and superhero ‘registration.’

He must have been lost in thought, because the government’s attorney called his name. “Captain Rogers? Are you all right?” 

Flushing with embarrassment, he shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I was just remembering something my mother said. I think I do remember that she had a license.”

The attorney just nodded, looking down at her notes. When she looked up, she asked, “During WWII, you led a group called the Howling Commandos, correct?”

Thrown by the change in subject, Steve just nodded. 

The government attorney frowned at him. “Was that a yes?” she asked.

Flushing even more from embarrassment, Steve remembered that his attorney had told him he had to say his answers out loud so the court reporter could record it. “Yes.”

“Wasn't one of your men in the Howling Commandos Japanese-American?"

Steve frowned, still not sure where this was going. "Yes. Sergeant Jim Morita."

"And weren't Sgt. Morita’s family incarcerated in the internment camps with other Japanese immigrants and Japanese-Americans after Pearl Harbor?"

"Yes, that's correct," Steve replied. He was still amazed, all these decades later, how Jim - and Gabe, too - could fight so unselfishly for the US even though they and their families had been treated so horribly by the country they called home.

"Tell me, Captain Rogers, did you ever speak out on the treatment of Japanese Americans?"

Surprised, Steve said, “In conversations with a lot of people, including those high in the government.”

“But not publicly,” the attorney stated, her tone and stance telegraphing that she knew what his answer would be.

Coloring in embarrassment, Steve admitted, "No, I did not. We were at war."

"Hmmm," the attorney replied noncommittally. "What about Sgt. Gabriel Jones, another one of your Howling Commandos? Did you speak out publicly against the Jim Crow laws that discriminated against him and other African-Americans."

Wincing, Steve admitted, "No, I did not." He had made no secret of the fact that he hated Jim Crow - even going so far as to refuse to perform for segregated audiences - but he had never spoken publicly about it. While traveling with the USO, they limited his opportunities to speak outside performing his script, and while fighting, he hadn’t had the time or ability to speak publicly. Instead, he’d let his actions speak for themselves, and having a Japanese-American soldier and African-American soldier on his team made his position clear. Now, though, he regretted not speaking up more. 

“What about now? Have you spoken out about any of the current civil rights movements?”

Frowning, Steve had to admit, “No. I’ve either been trying to catch up on the 70 years I missed or performing missions. I haven’t had to time to learn about them and speaking in ignorance could make matters worse, instead of helping.”

“But you’re speaking out now.”

Steve nodded, on firmer ground. “Yes, I am.”

Cooly, the attorney commented, "It seems, Captain Rogers, that you only speak out against what you perceive is an injustice when you yourself are affected by it. Would you say that's accurate?"

Bristling with anger, Steve responded, "No, that's not true."

The attorney merely raised an eyebrow. "Really, Captain Rogers? In that case, can you provide examples of instances where you spoke out publicly against injustices to others?" 

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but, his heart sinking, he realized he didn't have any examples. Face burning in shame, he hung his head and admitted softly, "No, I cannot."

The attorney looked at him calculatingly, then changed tracks again. "Despite not speaking publicly about it, or being able to research the issue in depth, you are aware of the recent civil rights movement, especially in regards to police conduct, aren’t you?"

"Um...yes, I am."

"And do you recall the complaints that people have lodged against police officers?"

Confused as to where she was going, he replied, "Yes. The concern is that police are taking deadly action disproportionately against African-Americans."

The attorney nodded. "Do you recall any other specific complaints?"

Steve frowned. "Do you mean the use of military equipment by the police?"

"It is a complaint, but not the one I was thinking of. Do you recall hearing complaints about police officers removing their name tags?"

Steve nodded slowly, searching his memory. "Yes, I think I remember hearing that. It was an issue in Ferguson, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. If the police were in fact removing their nametags, do you think that would be a legitimate complaint?"

Steve nodded again. "Well, yes, the people deserve to know who is...." he trailed off, realizing too late the trap.

The attorney simply raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. "The people deserve to know what, Captain Rogers?"

He sighed. "They deserve to know who is taking actions against them."

"For accountability purposes?"

"Yes."

“Because citizens cannot seek redress if they don’t know who was taking the action?”

“Yes.” 

“Did you know that in many States, police officers have to be licensed?”

Steve frowned. They were? “No, I didn’t know that.”

“And did you know that police officers can have their licenses disciplined if they violate the rules and standards set for police officers?”

“No, I didn’t know that, either.”

“Did you know that in many States the public can see online whether an officer’s license has been disciplined?” 

“No, I didn’t know that.” Steve was beginning to feel like a broken record.

The attorney raised her chin, looking him straight in the eye. "So tell me, Captain Rogers: do you think that superheroes shouldn't be held to the same accountability standards as the police?"

"It isn't the same," he protested.

"How so? Because the only difference I see is that superheroes can inflict more damage and hurt more people than police can."

His attorney stood. "Objection. Argumentative."

"Withdrawn.”

The government attorney looked down at her notes, so Steve took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The government’s attorney’s questions had touched more than one nerve. He had just a moment to try to collect himself, though, before the government attorney raised her head to meet Steve’s gaze.

“Captain, I’d like to return to something you said on direct examination: that superhero registration reminded you of the Nazis making Jews wear yellow star badges. Is that correct?”

Steve nodded, feeling more secure now that he was back on familiar ground. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“The Nazis scapegoated the Jews and persecuted them, ultimately murdering millions of them.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Making Jews wear yellow stars, like you mentioned, was one of the ways the Nazis persecuted them.”

“Yes.”

The Nazs also stole or destroyed Jews’ property, didn’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And the Nazis forced the Jews to live in ghettos.”

“Yes.”

“Ultimately, the Nazis shipped Jews off to concentration camps, where the Nazis either murdered them or made them work as slaves, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So how is superhero registration the same same as what the Nazis did? Does the SHRA require superheroes to wear badges showing who they are?”

Steve frowned. “Well, no.”

“Does the SHRA take superheroes’ property?”

“No.”

“Does the SHRA require superheroes to live in ghettos?”

“No.”

“Does the SHRA require superheroes to be slave labor?”

“It forces them to work for the government,” Steve objected.

“But the SHRA won’t force anyone to work without pay, will it?”

“Well, no.”

“If anything, it’s more like the draft, correct?”

Steve paused, not sure. “I suppose…” he trailed off.

“And the SHRA doesn’t call for superheroes to be murdered.”

“No,” Steve admitted.

“So the SHRA doesn’t do any of the things the Nazis did, correct?”

“Well, no, it doesn’t,” Steve had to admit.

“Then how exactly does the SHRA remind you of the Nazis?”

“The SHRA requires all people with superpowers to register with the government.”

“But people with superpowers can pose a threat to the public, can’t they?”

“Well, yes, they can.”

“Are there any other ways the SHRA reminds you of the Nazis?”

Steve frowned. “It singles out a group for different treatment.”

The attorney raised her eyebrows. “So by your definition, anything that singles out a group for different treatment is like the Nazis?”

“Yes,” Steve replied firmly.

The attorney shook her head and sighed. “Captain, while catching up on modern society, have you heard of Godwin’s Law?”

Steve frowned. “I think so. I think it’s on my list of things to look up.”

The attorney just nodded. “You should do that, Captain. No further questions, your honor.”

“Redirect?” The judge asked Steve’s attorney.

“No, your honor.”

The judge turned to Steve. “You are excused, Captain.”

Relieved, Steve left the witness stand and went back to the plaintiffs’ table. 

“Any further witnesses, counsel?”

“No, your honor. The plaintiffs rest.”

The judge nodded, turning to the government’s attorney. “The defense may call its first witness.”

“Thank you, your honor. The defense calls Tony Stark.”

Steve watched as Tony crossed the courtroom to sit in the witness stand. Steve was conflicted about Tony. They’d had a rough start, but Steve had thought they’d become friends. But Steve just didn’t understand the man or why he did the things he did.

“Could you please state your full name for the record?”

“Anthony Edward Stark.” As usual, Tony looked confident and at ease. Sometimes, Steve couldn’t help but hate Tony, just a little; this was one of those times.

“Mr. Stark, are you familiar with professional registration?”

“Yes. It’s also called professional licensing, which is the term I prefer.”

“And how are you familiar with professional registration?”

“I have professional engineer’s licenses in New York, California, and Massachusetts.”

“And as a licensed professional engineer, are you are required to meet the standards set by laws of each State?”

“Yes, I am.” 

Steve was surprised by Tony’s answer; he didn’t seem the type to follow other people’s rules.

“What happens if you don’t follow those rules?” the government’s attorney continued.

“The licensing board can discipline my license: either put it on probation, suspend it for a period of time, or revoke it.”

“Why is professional licensing important?”

“It’s necessary to protect the public. You’d be surprised how much damage someone can do.”

“Can you provide some examples of that?”

Tony snorted. “Far too many, even if I just limit myself to engineering disasters. The Challenger disaster was caused by faulty O-rings. The Tacoma Narrows Bridge collapse back in 1940. There’s video of the bridge twisting and turning in the wind before collapsing, though thankfully no people were hurt or killed when it did. And the 1981 Kansas City Hyatt Regency Hotel walkway collapse that killed 114 people and injured another 216. The engineers responsible for that last disaster had their professional licenses revoked.”

Steve was shocked. He was used to people being killed through violence. He had no idea that engineers could cause so much damage and kill so many people through bad design. 

“Mr. Stark, can you explain your support for the SHRA?”

Tony sighed. “Superheroes need standards and accountability for our actions - and we need to think about our actions with a view to protecting the public. It’s not always avoidable, but we always need to do our best to minimize the damage.”

“How would the SHRA work?”

“Like with other professions, there would be a licensing board made up of superheroes. They would set standards and then license those who met those standards as superheroes. The board would have the authority to discipline the licenses of superheroes who don’t meet the standards. It would also have authority to act against those who acted as superheroes without licenses.”

“Mr. Stark, do you support all of the aspects of the SHRA?

Tony shook his head. “No, I don’t. The provisions requiring everyone with super powers to register go too far. This should be about regulating a profession, not people. I also don’t support the provisions requiring people with superpowers to work for the government. I lobbied to have those provisions removed, but they wouldn’t budge. I figured I could sue to have them declared unconstitutional, though I was pretty sure my former colleagues would beat me to it,” he finished wryly.

Steve flushed. He hadn’t known Tony hadn’t supported all of the SHRA, though he hadn’t really tried to talk to Tony about it. It was also a bit disconcerting to discover that he was so predictable to someone he thought hadn’t known him well at all.

The government’s attorney continued with her questioning of Tony. “Mr. Stark, can you explain why the SHRA is so important for you?”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Leaning back in his seat, he looked down and said quietly, “It’s because I know better than anyone that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I oversaw Stark Industries as a weapons company, developing stronger and smarter weapons to protect Americans. I didn’t know they were being sold under the table to terrorists. I trusted the wrong people and trusted that they were doing the right thing, when they weren’t. So many innocents were hurt and killed and I'm responsible because I failed to personally ensure that we were doing the right thing. And then, as an Avenger, I tried to build a peacekeeping force that would protect Earth from threats beyond our planet, but it ended up trying to destroy the Earth instead. We barely beat it.”

Tony looked up and Steve was shocked by the pain reflected in Tony’s eyes. “I support it because I am the one who failed to protect the public. If the SHRA was already in place, I would be the first one the superhero licensing board would take action against. I can’t undo what I did, but maybe, if we have standards and accountability in place, I can prevent someone else from making the same mistakes I did,” he finished hoarsely.

Staring at his former colleague, Steve’s heart ached at the pain so obviously written all over Tony’ features. Steve knew that Tony was not one to openly display his emotions; Tony was always ready with a quip that would distract anyone from looking too closely. How much was it costing Tony to show this, not only to Steve and the other superheroes, but to total strangers? And how had Steve never realized the depths of self-hatred Tony was harboring?

Clearing his throat, Tony sat up straight. “The whole point of this is protecting the public. And sometimes, that means we need to protect them from ourselves. That’s why I support the SHRA.”

Steve sat back, struck by Tony’s words. Why had he been so eager to believe the worst of Tony and his supporters? Why hadn’t he researched the issue more, found out how similar this was to the regulation of other professions? Why hadn’t he just listened to Tony, instead of assuming that he knew what Tony was going to say and dismissing anything that Tony said that didn’t fit Steve’s preconceived ideas? Steve was relieved that Tony spoke out against the worst provisions, and the way Tony described the rest of it actually sounded reasonable. Steve was now haunted by the idea that maybe, if he had worked with Tony instead of working against him, they could have convinced Congress to remove the provisions that singled out people with superpowers. Maybe, they could have made a strong law that would have satisfied both sides.

The attorney paused a moment and then asked quietly, “Have you been held accountable for your actions, Mr. Stark?”

Tony gave a bitter laugh. “To some degree, though they aren't finished yet. I’m personally paying restitution to the countries of Sokovia and Wakanda, and the Stark Relief Foundation is paying restitution to South Korea. There have been calls for my prosecution as a war criminal, but I’m not sure whether that will happen. And, of course, I left the Avengers, hoping that the fallout would be on me and not on them, which, so far, it has been.”

Listening to Tony’s words, Steve was ashamed of himself. He hadn’t really believed Tony’s stated reason for leaving the Avengers, but he hadn’t bothered to find out the real reasons. He also hadn’t known about Tony paying restitution or the calls for prosecution. Instead, he’d been training his new team and worrying about Bucky, leaving the politics and administration to others. How much had been going on behind the scenes, with Steve left blissfully ignorant by his own choice to ignore it?

The government attorney stated, “No further questions,” and sat. 

At the judge’s nod, the plaintiffs’ attorney rose to begin his cross examination. “Mr. Stark, you admit that the Sokovia incident was your fault?”

Tony nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“But the SHRA wouldn't have prevented that incident, would it have?”

Tony frowned. “I can’t say that because the standards haven’t been created yet. They might have.”

“But even if there are standards, they might not be effective in stopping things like the Sokovia incident.”

“Perhaps not. But that doesn’t mean we don't try to prevent them.”

“But the SHRA can’t be effective if people don’t follow it, can it?”

Tony stared at the attorney, blinking. Finally he said, incredulous, “Are you actually suggesting that because some people won’t follow the law, we shouldn’t have it at all? That’s like saying people will always murder others, so there’s no reason to make murder a crime.”

Despite the situation, Steve had to stop himself from smiling. Regardless of whether you agreed with him, you had to admit Tony had a style all his own that wouldn’t be suppressed, not even in court. Though Steve was a little jealous that Tony had managed to not be pulled into agreeing with the attorney like Steve had when he was cross-examined.

Their attorney flushed slightly, but didn’t let up. “We’ve established that you were wrong, but you can’t say that other superheroes like Captain America have done things that would warrant government oversight, can you?”

On the stand, Tony froze, his eyes wide. “Uh,” he started, then swallowed. “Actually, yes, I can say that.”

It was as if everyone in the courtroom had been doused with cold water. Everyone was in shock, staring at either Tony or Steve. For his part, Steve couldn’t think. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but it was hard to hear Tony say it out loud.

Looking around, though, he saw that no one looked more surprised than his own attorney. Steve had heard the story about Abraham Lincoln, about not asking a question you don’t know the answer to. Apparently, perhaps taken in by Captain America’s squeaky clean image, his attorney had forgotten that lesson. Totally thrown off his game, his attorney squeaked, “No further questions,” and sat down.

The judge turned to the government’s attorney. “I imagine you would like to redirect,” she drawled.

The attorney nodded. “Yes, your honor.” Turning to Tony, she asked, “Mr. Stark, could you explain your last answer?”

Tony closed his eyes and hunched in on himself. Looking down, he spoke so quietly, even Steve had trouble hearing him. “During the Sokovia incident, I was working with Dr. Banner on a new method to stop Ultron, when Cap stormed in with the Scarlet Witch. He told me to stop what we were doing and when we didn’t, he attacked me.”

Steve wanted to run, to close his eyes, anything to stop seeing Tony recounting the time his team captain and friend had attacked him. And he was acutely aware of Wanda sitting behind him, their unity on this issue giving additional weight to Tony’s words. But he needed to see this; he needed to face consequences of his actions.

The government attorney was incredulous. “Attacked you how?”

“He threw the shield at me,”

The government attorney frowned. “Were you wearing the Iron Man armor?”

Tony shook his head. “Not when he first threw it, though I did have a gauntlet on.”

“How did the attack end?”

“Thor came in and stopped us.”

“Do you know why Captain Rogers attacked you?”

Tony sighed. “I found out later that Scarlet Witch had told him that I couldn’t see the difference between saving the world and destroying it.” He raised his head, looking straight at the attorney and ignoring Steve and the other superheroes. “I understand that I screwed up. But I was trying to help. And not five minutes before Scarlet Witch made her announcement to the Captain, she had been working for Ultron, trying to destroy the world because she blamed me for her family’s death by Stark Industries weapons sold to terrorists, which,” he raised his hands as if in surrender, “fair enough. But there’s that. And there’s the fact that she got into my head, giving me a vision of Earth being invaded all my teammates dead, save for Cap, who told me I could have saved them, which is why I created Ultron. And she got in the heads of most of the rest of the team, causing Hulk to go berserk. With all that, I would have thought that her credibility was damaged enough that my own teammate wouldn’t take everything she said as gospel truth. But she got the benefit of the doubt and I didn’t,” he finished bitterly.

Steve felt whatever was left of his heart shatter. He still didn’t know why he had believed Wanda and attacked Tony. Even if she had had a point - and considering the circumstances, she may have - he hadn't even tried to talk to his teammates, but walked in having already decided that they were wrong. At the time, Steve had just been so angry at Tony. Tony had always gotten under his skin and Steve hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. But now, months after the incident, Steve knew that he had been wrong to react the way he did. Now Steve had no choice but to see just how much his actions had hurt his former teammate.

The attorney followed up, “Was that the only incident with another Avenger?”

Tony shook his head. “No. After we first discovered Ultron, I was almost hysterical, realizing what had happened to - well, what had happened, and what could still happen.” Steve looked down, remembering that none of them, at first, other than Tony, had fully realized what had happened to JARVIS. He just remembered his shock and anger, and then Tony laughing, which he and the others took badly, once again thinking the worst of the billionaire. Knowing how close Tony had been to JARVIS, Tony’s hysterical laughter after realizing that JARVIS was dead was understandable, but none of them saw that.

Lost in his own memories, Tony continued, “Thor came back after losing Ultron’s trail and attacked me. He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me.” Tony smirked bitterly. “It’s apparently a thing, people grabbing me by the throat. The other times were enemies. This was the first time a teammate did it.”

“Were you wearing your armor?”

“No, I was not.”

“But Thor is an Asgardian with super strength, isn't he?”

Tony snorted. “I can assure you that he is. I have personal experience.”

The attorney nodded. “Mr. Stark, you’ve said you left the Avengers to protect them, but was that the only reason?” 

The courtroom was so silent, you could have heard a pin drop, even without enhanced senses. Waiting for the answer, Steve held his breath.

Tony sighed and slumped. “No, it was not. It was one thing for them to disagree with me, which they actually did often. It’s something completely different to attack me because of it. I know I was wrong, but it was a mistake made with good intentions, but they treated me as if I was deliberately trying to hurt people. Despite our training, despite our experiences, despite our shared goals, we weren’t a team. Some of us trusted others, but no one trusted everyone. So I also left because I couldn’t trust my teammates to have my back. I would always be wondering what they’d do the next time they disagreed with me. I guess we’re lucky this time that they just sued instead of starting an actual war.” 

Steve closed his eyes. The worst of it was, Tony was right. The old Avengers hadn’t been a team. Steve trusted Natasha and Clint, and to a lesser extent Bruce and Thor, but he had never fully trusted Tony. He knew there was history between Tony and Natasha, too, which made each keep the other at arm’s length (which was one of the reasons Steve had been shocked by Natasha joining Tony’s side). And he really had no idea how much anyone else trusted the others. He was trying to fix that with the new Avengers, but that didn’t stop the bitter taste in his mouth as he thought back on his former colleagues.

And Tony didn’t know how right he was about an actual war. Steve had considered resisting the SHRA, even forcefully. He was so grateful now to Matt, who came out of anonymity to convince the other disgruntled superheroes to sue to stop the SHRA, instead of fighting it and its supporters. What could have happened if they had fought? Who could have been hurt or even killed? How much damage could they have caused? And who would have protected the public while they fought amongst themselves?

Finally faced with the reality of the situation, Steve was now certain that if he could go back, he’d do it all differently. And not just with the SHRA: he wanted to go back and start over with Tony. 

Steve couldn’t deny that he’d always been hot-headed; more times than he could count, he had acted without thinking, just going ahead with his knee-jerk reaction. He saw a bully and he fought against them. But were they all bullies, or was he so certain that bullies were everywhere that he saw them even when they didn’t exist? 

From the start, he had seen Tony as a bully, with more money than sense and running roughshod over anyone who stood in his way. He was sure that Tony thought he was so much better than everyone else and that was why Tony insisted on doing everything himself. But looking back, Steve could see the evidence that that wasn’t the case at all. Tony didn’t have to make the Iron Man armor after getting back to the US after escaping Afghanistan. He didn’t have to stop Stark Industries from making weapons after discovering they were being sold under the table to terrorists. He didn’t have to put himself in danger to protect others, even nearly sacrificing himself to divert the nuke from New York. He didn’t have to re-form and sponsor the Avengers after SHIELD fell, and he didn’t have to step aside and let Steve be the leader. 

Tony was by no means perfect; like everyone, he had flaws and he made mistakes. And being a superhero (and super genius, by most people’s accounts) probably amplified not only his flaws, but also the consequences of his mistakes. But he wasn’t a bad person. Why had Steve been treating him as one? Why had Steve decided that Tony’s actions came from bad motives, despite all evidence to the contrary?

While Steve was lost in his personal crisis, the government’s attorney had sat down and Tony had left the witness stand to return to the defendant's table. Looking across the courtroom, Steve could see Natasha’s hand on Tony’s shoulder, comforting him while speaking softly into Tony’s ear. Once again, Steve was struck by the improbable sight of two people he thought didn’t like or trust one another working together. Steve had trusted Natasha, so why hadn’t he trusted her judgment in this?

The judge cleared her throat, drawing all attention to her. “I have read the parties’ pleadings and have considered the evidence,” she began. “I am issuing a preliminary injunction to halt the implementation of the SHRA to the extent that it requires anyone with a superpower to register with the government, regardless of whether they act as a superhero. I am also issuing a preliminary injunction on the provisions that require superheroes to work for the government. But the provisions of the SHRA about the licensing and governing of those acting as superheroes will go into effect. I will issue a written opinion within the next few days explaining my reasoning.” With that, she rose, causing the bailiff to once again announce, “All rise.” 

As he and the others stood, Steve realized that he was satisfied with the judge’s ruling. The judge stopped the worst provisions from taking effect, and the parts she allowed to be implemented, the professional registration part, actually didn’t seem that bad. It wasn’t what he had wanted when he walked into the courtroom that morning, but the revelations of the last few hours had given him a new perspective. And now, more than anything, he needed to talk to Tony. Steve hoped he wasn’t too late.

Ignoring his fellow plaintiffs (especially Wanda), Steve walked across the courtroom to where Tony and Natasha were talking. Natasha, seeing him first, narrowed her eyes at him, her figure tensing as she prepared for a fight. Tony, turning to see what had caused Natasha’s reaction, also tensed when he saw Steve. Steve felt sick. Had he really been so bad that his former colleagues (friends) tensed just on seeing him?

He wanted to go curl in a ball and hide, but Captain America didn’t shy away from doing the right thing, and neither did Steve Rogers, though sometimes it took him a while to figure out what the right thing was. If Tony could find the strength to publicly admit his mistakes and show - in open court to total strangers - the hurt he’d been feeling, Steve could find the strength to do this. He had been wrong and now he had to fix it. 

In a low voice, he asked, “Tony, can we talk?” Seeing Tony’s hesitation, he added, “Please?”

Tony gazed at him a moment with narrowed eyes, then curtly nodded. He looked at Natasha and nodded at her, too, but she just glared at Steve even more. “I’ll be right over there,” she warned. She turned and walked a few feet away before turning again to keep Steve in her sights. Steve knew she wouldn’t hesitate to take him down if he did anything wrong to Tony. Oddly, that show of loyalty warmed his heart; if those two could move past their history and become friends, maybe all hope wasn’t lost for him and Tony.

He turned back to Tony to find the shorter man looking at him expectantly. “Well,” he said, a challenge in his voice. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

Steve took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. It wouldn’t do for him to speak without thinking. “I’m sorry. I was wrong about you.”

Under other circumstances, Tony’s shock would have been funny, but not now. Now, it just dug the knife deeper into Steve’s heart.

“What?” Tony asked. “You’re actually apologizing? Now?”

Steve winced. This was going to be harder than he thought. “I am apologizing, Tony. I wasn’t wrong about the parts of the SHRA singling out people with superpowers or requiring us all to work for the government. But I didn’t know about professional licensing and I didn’t understand your motives. I was wrong and I’m sorry for it.” He paused for a moment, then asked the question that had been plaguing him since Tony began testifying. “Why didn’t you explain it to me?”

Tony raised both eyebrows. “Would you have listened?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t the other times I tried to explain. I never even had a chance to get to that part of the explanation. So I didn’t feel the need to waste my time while you looked down on me with your smug superiority.”

Not giving Steve a chance to respond, Tony continued, “You’ve always thought the worst of me. I realized a long time ago that there was no point in trying to win you over because I never could. And then recently, when you disagreed with me, you attacked me. So forgive me if I wasn't eager to risk having another fight with a super soldier,” he spat.

Steve closed his eyes. He actually couldn’t blame Tony for not coming to him and explaining. “You’re right,” he said, opening his eyes. “I haven’t been fair to you and I probably wouldn’t have given you a fair hearing. I don’t know why. You just get under my skin and I don’t know what to do with you.”

Tony blinked, then gave his insincere public smile. “Don’t worry about it, Cap. I do that for a lot of people,” he shrugged, turning to walk away.

Steve couldn’t let it end like this. They’d be no better off than they had been, and Steve was beginning to realize how vital it was that they worked together - on this and everything else. The panic he felt bubbling up inside as he watched Tony start to walk away made him realize how much he needed Tony at his side. Fighting him had been hell.

He reached out to grab Tony’s arm, ignoring Natasha angrily starting toward him. “Tony, please,” he pleaded. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please just listen to me a moment more.”

Tony glanced at Natasha, who stopped in her tracks, still glaring at Steve. Shrugging off Steve’s arm, Tony turned back to face the other man. “Fine. I’m listening. But be quick. I haven’t got all day.”

Steve took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I have a tendency to act before I think. And I think that’s what happened here. I didn’t completely understand the SHRA and the parts I did understand were bad. So I reacted to that and went full steam ahead, not pausing to think things through. And then I went too far, though thankfully not as far as I could have. It wasn’t until today that I realized there was another side to this.”

Tony nodded, his expression shuttered. “And what about Ultron? Why did you attack me?” he asked quietly, his eyes not leaving Steve’s face.

Steve winced. There was a reason that, afterwards, he had acted like the attack had never happened: he didn’t really understand why he had done it. It was easier to forget it than face an ugly truth about himself. “I…” he trailed off. He knew he had to explain this or he’d have no chance of winning Tony over. But how could he explain something he didn’t really understand himself? “I was hurt,” he blurted, just as surprised as Tony at his words. Now that he had started, though, it was as if the floodgates had opened. “You hadn’t come to me. You hadn’t trusted me. You were going behind my back. It was almost payback: if you hadn’t trusted me, I wasn’t going to trust you. Wanda just gave me an excuse,” he said, dropping his head because he was unable to meet Tony’s gaze any longer. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you, but I was hurt myself and I let my hurt take over. But I never wanted to hurt you,” he repeated, gathering his strength to force himself to look up at Tony’s expression, expecting the worst. 

Surprisingly, Tony’s expression wasn’t angry, disgusted, or even scornful. If anything, Tony looked...contemplative? Steve was never going to understand this man.

Tony looked down for a moment, then raised his head to meet Steve’s gaze. “I guess I can understand that,” he murmured. “And I suppose I didn’t really make things easy for you, did I?” he asked, a small, wry, and mostly importantly, _genuine_ , smile on his lips.

Steve tentatively smiled back. “No, you really didn’t,” he agreed. 

“So,” Tony began, hopeful and maybe a little nervous, “I have some ideas about the superhero standards. I don’t suppose you’re care to discuss them with me?”

Steve grinned, overwhelmed by relief. “I’d love to. How does now work for you?” 

Tony smiled. “Now is good. Shall we?” he asked motioning to the courtroom door. 

Steve held no illusions that things were settled between them, or that they didn’t have a lot of work ahead of them to get their relationship back on track. But this was a good start. And for the first time in a long time, as he left the courtroom side-by-side with Tony, he felt that he was going in the right direction.


End file.
